


if you're out there in the cold, i'll cover you in moonlight

by trilobites



Series: raised by wolves [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Dreams and Nightmares, Fights, Food, For Chapter 387, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Up, Past Relationship(s), Post-Time Skip, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trilobites/pseuds/trilobites
Summary: My [23M] best friend and ex-boyfriend [23M] is visiting me for a week, and my current boyfriend [24M] who agreed to all of this is suddenly withdrawing from me. Can I get some advice? Please? Anyone?
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Series: raised by wolves [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651408
Comments: 54
Kudos: 411





	1. nebulas

  
“When you’re with me these days, do you even see me anymore or am I just something that you’re trying to overcome?”  
  
Kageyama stood tall, his hair blowing in the chill winter wind. Puffs of steam came out of his mouth, nose flushed red from the cold as they stared at each other in the narrow avenue. Hinata’s tongue was thick in his mouth. How was he supposed to answer this? What had he said again?  
  
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” No. That wasn’t it.  
  
He watched as Kageyama’s brow furrowed—in pain, because he’d say this next: “What happens the day that you do overcome me? Will you still be here then?”  
  
The rest of the conversation passed by in a blur, Hinata’s voice going raw from shouting in the January air. What did Kageyama understand? There was a lack inside him that he would never know. There was a fear inside Kageyama that he refused to see. With each passing moment, Kageyama grew taller and taller, until he loomed over Hinata like a mountain’s rough, unyielding face. As Kageyama morphed into the mountainside and disappeared into it altogether, Hinata grew increasingly despondent. He could never climb this precipice now. Everything had been ruined, because he still didn’t know what to say after all this time.  
  
Hinata was sliding down the mountainside, unable to find any purchase on its surface. There was gravity, and him, and the sound of an alarm blaring loud in his ears. Wait, what?  
  
Hinata jolted awake. The first thing he did was look around the room: the sky was grey through the curtains, casting weak shadows on the furniture and walls. He was bundled up in a cozy cocoon of blankets, with a warm face pressed into the crook of his neck. His alarm was still going. He reached over to kill it before taking a deep breath. It had only been a bad recurring dream he had, albeit rarely anymore. Hinata rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sighed.  
  
It was late December, and Hinata Shouyou was twenty-three years old. He played for the MSBY Black Jackals, not the Karasuno High School Volleyball Club. He’d left the rolling hillsides of Miyagi years ago and was living in an apartment in Kichijouji. Miya Atsumu was snoring quietly into his skin; he stayed the night some nights of the week, and never let Hinata forget it when he was there. Feeling the tickle of Atsumu’s breath against him grounded Hinata into wakefulness. He nuzzled Atsumu’s face gently and pushed back his fringe to press a kiss to his forehead.  
  
“Atsumu-san, you shouldn’t sleep on your side,” he murmured.  
  
Atsumu’s eyes stayed closed as he frowned, then whined as Hinata rolled him onto his back. “The hell, Shou-kun, ’m sleeping.”  
  
“On your back. You’ll complain about your shoulder pain later.”  
  
Atsumu huffed until Hinata tucked him in again and appeased him with pets, a light kneading of his scalp that never failed to make him snore. In that regard, he wasn’t so different from an unruly dog. There was a thought. Hinata kept it in mind as he tiptoed out of bed. First was meditation in the living room as the sharp winter morning brightened through his apartment window. He took deep breaths until his nightmare became a faraway memory vanished into wisps of steam that trailed from the boiling pot of stock on his stove. He diced tofu and burdock while the fish sizzled away in its pan.  
  
From behind him, the bedroom door opened, and Atsumu came tumbling out. His hair was sticking up in odd directions and he looked disoriented. Hinata smiled as he watched Atsumu feel along the walls for guidance to the bathroom threshold. When he reemerged fifteen minutes later, he took one look at the breakfast on the table and then at Hinata like he’d hung the moon and the stars. And all he’d done was make some food.  
  
“Good morning,” he said. “Come eat.”  
  
Atsumu did. He sat at the table and confirmed Hinata’s long-standing theory that Atsumu had actually been raised in a cave. As soon as he set the bowl of miso down in front of him, Atsumu began eating like he’d been starved. He cracked the egg and poured soy sauce into his rice and mixed it with gusto before shoveling it into his mouth in between sips of his soup. It was only when he saw Hinata staring at him that he looked up and gave a sheepish thumbs up.  
  
“Thanks for the food,” he said, mouth full.  
  
“You’re supposed to say that before you start eating.”  
  
“If I said it I said it! S’good enough!”  
  
Hinata laughed and pressed the flats of his palms together. “Thank you for the food,” he murmured, and started eating, too.  
  
Over the past year and a half of dating Atsumu, Hinata had learned more about him: first, he always finished his rice and fish first, but would drag his feet while finishing his vegetables; second, he would insist on doing dishes that took him twenty minutes to finish (the same took Hinata only ten); third, he always wanted second helpings of rice. Hinata watched him stand at the rice cooker and contemplate how much rice to add to his bowl while he cleared off his own plates and put them in the sink. Atsumu visibly drooped.  
  
“Where’re you going?”  
  
“To the airport, remember?”  
  
“Oh, right.” Something odd happened, then. Atsumu wasn’t drooping anymore. He stood up straighter and closed the rice cooker. “Well if you’re leavin’ now, I’ll do the dishes.”  
  
Hinata studied his face. There was no sign of agitation or displeasure, paved over into a neutral expression that revealed nothing. It remained that way as Hinata got dressed and used the shoehorn to toe on his sneakers. When he turned in the entryway, Atsumu was standing in his apron, fidgeting while pretending not to fidget. He was haloed in the sunlight from the double-pane sliding glass door in the living room. Hinata leaned up to kiss him.  
  
“See you, Shouyou-kun.”  
  
“I’m just going to the airport. You don’t have to leave. I’ll be back soon.”  
  
“Hmm, yeah,” Atsumu said, long and contemplative. His face was still impassive. It made Hinata suddenly uneasy.  
  
“What’s with that answer?”  
  
Atsumu blinked. “Nothin’. Just thinking about the dishes.” He reached around to smack Hinata’s ass and started ushering him towards the door. “You gotta get goin’ if you don’t wanna elbow the tourists at Haneda to get to Tobio-kun.”  
  
Hinata was being foisted out the door, his phone pushed into his hand as Atsumu waved at him from the crack between the doorjamb and door. He smiled, his eyes crinkling in that fox-like way that they did. “Wait, Atsumu-san—”  
  
“Later, Shouyou-kun! Be safe!” he said, and closed the door.  
  
Hinata stared at the door from the other side, bewildered at Atsumu’s behavior. There was no time to ask him about it, however. Kageyama’s plane would be landing in a couple of hours, and the international terminal at Haneda would no doubt crowded. Adjusting the strap on his bag, Hinata left Atsumu at home and made his way to the metro station. Whatever he had to ask could wait until he returned.  
  


* * *

Kageyama had played in Japan after graduating Karasuno, ascending to V.1 and then the Olympics national team. It was only natural that he would extend himself to play outside the same arena that he’d been a part of since birth. So he’d left Japan late in the summer and taken along with him twenty years of Japanese volleyball. Hinata had expected the same hollowness that had carved itself out inside him upon seeing Kageyama’s sweat-drenched Team Japan jersey on a TV screen during his delivery route in Rio. Instead, there had been a strange stillness within him that he still didn’t know how to identify all these months later.

When Kageyama had mentioned visiting Japan for the new year, Hinata found himself inviting him to visit him, too. Whether it was a miracle or a sign of his age, Kageyama actually agreed. His voice on the other end of the line had been hesitant and soft, so uncharacteristic of him that Hinata had hardly recognized it. It felt like the Kageyama he had known had been replaced by someone more mature and grounded, even more so than when Hinata had seen him after returning from Brazil. The strange newness of it all made him a little jittery as he stood in a crowd of people at the terminal gates. Family members and loved ones peered at the gate anxiously, with welcome signs and their hair styled nicely to receive someone special on the other side.

Hinata waited impatiently as the gates opened, and people with their carry-on bags began flooding the atrium. There was no point in straining to look for Kageyama, who would stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he went, but Hinata had never known how to stay still in one place for long. He stared as the crowd thickened then dwindled down to stragglers. Honestly, had he even gotten on the right plane? Hinata called him and sighed as the dial tone kept going.

“Sorry I’m late. There was some freak inspection for a Mediterranean banana.”

Hinata whirled around and was met with the real life Kageyama. He had dark circles under his eyes and whiskers already growing on his upper lip from the long plane ride from Milan. The flyaway hairs on his head blew every which way with the gusts in the airport atrium. At 188 centimeters, Kageyama stood more than just a head above nearly everyone else there. More than a few people stared at him as they walked past, but apparently none of them recognized one of their youngest ever national representatives. Maybe it was the facial hair. Or the fact that he was due for a haircut. Hinata had seen him often enough in volleyball news articles, but the camera had failed to capture the newfound angles of his face, now rid of the roundness of youth. Suddenly, he remembered the dream he’d had again that morning. Kageyama the mountain. Hinata stared.

“You know…because they got a tip that someone was trying to smuggle exotic fruits into Japan,” Kageyama said, frowning—probably because he couldn’t tell why Hinata was staring at him.

Hinata blinked, and then he grinned. “I’m surprised you remembered the word ‘exotic,’ Kageyama-kun.”

Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, and Hinata prepared himself to leap out of the way of any surprise attacks. There was no need, apparently. Kageyama just huffed and hoisted the strap on his duffel up on his shoulder. When Hinata started staring again, he finally lost his cool: “What?” he snapped. “Do I have something on my face.”

Hinata shook his head. "You just seem…really mature these days.”

This seemed to bemuse Kageyama, whose frown deepened. "Seriously? It's not like we're kids anymore." Then he turned to the terminal exit. "Help me find my suitcase."

Always so matter of fact. Kageyama walked past him towards the baggage claim. It wasn’t so weird to remark on how much someone had matured after seeing them for the first time in nearly a year, but of course, Kageyama wasn’t one to express sentiment. Hinata followed him to the carousel and stood in silence. If they were going to make conversation while Kageyama squinted at the luggage, it was up to Hinata to make the effort.

"So, what color is your suitcase?"

"Black."

"Ah." Hinata's eyes were swimming with the sea of black luggage on the carousel. "What did you use to distinguish it from the other ones?"

Kageyama paused. "Uh, shit."

Hinata broke out into a laugh, then. To Kageyama, attentiveness was in a ball tossed exactly the way a spiker wanted, a play executed just right—not taking care of details like this. In spite of his maturity, there were things that were embedded as deep into Kageyama as roots grounding a tree. He’d always been the steady one between the two of them.

“Shut up! It was on sale!”

“Kageyama-san, do you do this every time you go to the airport, or was that just the smallest suitcase you could fit all the things you needed for this trip?”

At that, Kageyama did lunge for him, and Hinata proved once more why he’d earned the name ‘Ninja Shouyou’ from his beach volleyball fans. He ducked and stepped back a safe distance away from Kageyama, whose eyes were narrowed. When Hinata stuck out his tongue, though, his glower eased into something softer. The corner of his mouth turned up, and he straightened. He snorted.

“You’re still such a dumbass,” he said. Before Hinata could demand an explanation, he turned and looked at the carousel. “Oh, there’s my bag.”

Hinata stayed in place as Kageyama went to gather his suitcase; an elderly woman nearly elbowed him in the ribs when he tried to help her lift hers out of the gutter (“Young man, do not take that bag!” “I’m trying to help you!”). Though there was nothing terribly jarring or unfamiliar about Kageyama, between the changes in his bearing and Atsumu’s cryptic behavior, Hinata couldn’t help allowing his earlier uneasiness to return.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Kageyama asked.

Hinata snapped out of his thoughts. “No, I’m going!” He went to where Kageyama stood and talked to him about what they would do and where they would go during his visit. The odd mood passed quickly enough, and soon Hinata forgot that he’d been uneasy at all.

* * *

The apartment building where Hinata lived stood seven stories tall, with one bedroom and a unit bath that Atsumu needed to hunch in to get the water around his shoulders. Whenever Atsumu stayed over, Hinata liked to sit on the edge of the tub and scrub Atsumu’s back clean while he complained about his knees bumping against the walls and Hinata complained about how broad his back was. The front door was a dark oak brown with a self-locking door to which Hinata often forgot the passcode. He didn’t forget it today when he invited Kageyama in (10-05-06-21). The door swung open, and Kageyama murmured “Sorry for the intrusion” before going inside.  
"Now, now, Tobio-kun. You don't need to be sorry when you were invited.”

In the threshold of the entrance hallway stood Atsumu, hair blow-dried and swept back off his forehead with gel. Hinata's eyes ran over the nice sky blue weave t-shirt that stretched over his shoulders and chest and the dark wash jeans that clung to his thighs. He’d left Atsumu in pink dish gloves and an apron that morning and returned in the afternoon to this. There was a smile on Atsumu's face; it was definitely the unpleasant one he wore to bully lesser mortals. Even still, he was handsome. Damn him.

"Oh. Miya-san. Hello."

"'Miya-san' is my brother. Or my dad. Or my mom." Then his smile widened. "What'll happen if I convince this one to marry me? You gonna call him 'Miya' too?"

"Uh."

Seriously? Hinata went over to pull Atsumu out of the entryway so Kageyama could come inside. "Atsumu-san, you're crowding Kageyama."

Even though he was scolding him, Hinata couldn't help noting the firm girth of Atsumu's forearm in his hands, or how he'd put on the oud and bergamot cologne that always made Hinata want to jump him. Atsumu smiled down smugly at him, like he was testing how far he could take this bad behavior. Hinata glared.

"Uh...Miya...Atsumu-san, I have something for you," Kageyama said, interjecting as delicately as he ever did. He was reaching into his suitcase. A souvenir? Hinata beamed with pride that Kageyama would even think of a courtesy like that.

"Wow, Kageyama-kun, is it something nice? Where's mine?"

"Shut up, dumbass," Kageyama answered, more on reflex than anything. "I was saving yours for later."

Before they could find out what Kageyama had brought, Atsumu pulled his arm out of Hinata's grip. He hadn't stopped smiling, but it stretched tense across his lips. Hinata startled upon realizing that it was polite and entirely fake. It had only taken him so long to realize it because he'd rarely seen such an expression on Atsumu's face before, usually only when he was meeting with people who he absolutely couldn’t afford to offend.

Hinata tried to meet his eyes, but Atsumu conspicuously avoided him, opening the hallway closet and rummaging through it. He pulled out a jacket, a brown one with lapels that Hinata had searched for far and wide to get in his size.

"Actually, Tobio-kun, I gotta get goin'. I was on the way out but I just wanted to say hi."

"Oh, uh, okay. I'll...wait until later, then." The mood had shifted enough for even Kageyama to pick up on it. Kageyama looked between him and Atsumu. _What's with that?_ his expression clearly said.

_Like I know._ "Where are you going Atsumu-san? I thought you were going to eat here.”

Atsumu shrugged his jacket on; Hinata had gotten it shipped in from a department store all the way in Fukuoka, had gotten the sleeves tailored to match the length of Atsumu’s freakishly long arms. Where on earth was he going in it?

“Out. Somethin’ came up with Samu.”

He was lying. Hinata didn’t know how he could think that with such certainty when there was nothing to lie about in the proclamation, but Atsumu never did learn how to cultivate a good poker face. When Hinata followed Atsumu to the door, Atsumu just turned around in the threshold and smoothed down Hinata’s hair, like he was a kid who needed to be pacified. That set Hinata off more than anything else had.

“Shouyou-kun, I’ll see you later. Have a good time with Tobio-kun, ‘kay?”

Before Hinata could say anything further, he closed the door and left him standing there with Kageyama, who was apparently tactful enough not to comment on what had just happened. Hinata felt a dark cloud gathering over his head. He had asked him whether it was okay. He really had. It wasn’t his fault that Atsumu hadn’t been truthful with him, and now he was running off to god knew where. His fists clenched on either side of him, and his heart thumped hard in his chest.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?”

Hinata didn’t want to let go of this frustration yet. He answered through clenched teeth, “Yes. No.”

“Which is it?” There was patience in Kageyama’s voice. It made Hinata sigh and take a deep breath.

“No, I haven’t eaten. You must be hungry. Want to eat?”

“Yeah. Seems like you need to, too. You get all grumpy when you’re hungry.”

Hinata frowned at the door where Atsumu had stood just moments ago. He didn’t argue any further. “Fine.”  



	2. novas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata Shouyou is having a very, very long day.

  
‘I’m coming on the 21st. People here are crazy about Christmas, so we get a longer break.’  
  
‘wow! so when are you going back?’  
  
‘Jan 7th.’  
  
The plan had been for Kageyama to stay with him for a week in Tokyo, and to return to Miyagi to his family home the week after. Hinata had sat on the message for a couple of days before asking Atsumu about it, after plying him with fatty tuna and milk tea the previous night. Atsumu was sitting across the cramped table, staring down at his phone screen and fiddling with the latest patch of Kitsune Atsume, which apparently promised the appearance of Tails the Fox. When he brought up Kageyama, Atsumu didn’t even look up from his phone.  
  
“Tobio-kun? Yeah, what about him? I don’t get what you’re askin’ me.”  
  
Hinata had frowned. “So you don’t care that he’s going to be here for a week?”  
  
“S’your apartment. I just crash here,” Atsumu said. “‘Sides, what do you want me to say? ‘No, sorry, Shouyou-kun, your friend can’t stay here’?”  
  
Why was he being strangely difficult about this? Hinata’s frown deepened. Atsumu was missing the obvious conclusion here, and if Hinata didn’t spell it out for him, would he even know what he was trying to say? “Well, since Kageyama will be here, I won’t have as much time to spend with you.”  
  
Atsumu had paused, then. The silence grew wide like a chasm, and Hinata didn’t know what to expect from Atsumu next. However, Atsumu had only smiled at him and said, “I’m not a sad dog. I got things to do in my free time, too, y’know.”  
  
That was what he’d said. ‘Have fun with Tobio-kun.’ Why had he been in such a rush to leave, then? Hinata picked at the gyoza sitting on his plate and pretended every poke would make Atsumu’s ear itch. The bastard hadn’t even answered any of Hinata’s texts since leaving for his brother’s.  
  
“Are you even eating?”  
  
Kageyama, now shaven and clean again, looked more alert after his first helping of noodles. Of all the things he could have asked for as his first meal upon landing, it was ramen. They were at a tiny ramen shop around the block, with white linen half-curtains that partitioned each table from its neighbors. Kageyama had slurped up his noodles like he’d been starved for the past four months; the image wasn’t unlike a bull crashing through a mountainside village. It was only now that he’d been a little sated that he’d bothered to ask if Hinata was eating. Hinata was surrounded by boors.  
  
“Yes, yes, Kageyama-san. I’m eating well,” he sighed.  
  
Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything further. Hinata realized that he’d been spacing out for the entire meal. He guiltily put the food into his mouth and chewed for lack of anything better to say.  
  
In the background were the noises of the cooks shouting out orders and clanging of pots and ladles. Winter had long since settled into the crevices left by an unseasonably long summer, and the steaming warmth of the shop drew in a stream of cool air every time the front door opened. It was an ordinary scene that could have been plucked from any winter in practically any year of Hinata's life. Except, it didn’t feel ordinary. Hinata was twenty-three, and he thought he might have been fighting with his boyfriend. He was sitting in a ramen shop in Kichijouji with Kageyama, who had come home for a short visit from Italy. Could there really have been a time when neither of them had so much as known how to point out Tokyo Tower from the cityscape? The world had been so big once.  
  
After they finished their food (Kageyama ended up thinking better of the third serving), they went to the temple nearby. The main street was teeming with people, just in time for the holiday season. In the temple, however, it was quiet, with only a few visitors come to pay their respects. Hinata watched as Kageyama rinsed his hands and mouth with practiced ease.  
  
“Whoa, you look like you really know what you’re doing!”  
  
Kageyama raised an eyebrow. “It’s just washing your hands. Besides, I used to come to temples like this often with my grandpa, and he’d always correct me when I did it wrong.”  
  
It was rare for Kageyama to mention things about his family. Hinata had met his sister only a handful of times, and his parents even fewer times than that. All he knew was that his grandfather had passed away when Kageyama was in middle school, before Hinata had even met him.  
  
“Oh…how do you do it properly, then?” he asked.  
  
Kageyama did it again, slowly pouring with the ladle over his hands before rinsing his mouth with the spring water, too. Hinata himself could never remember the order, so he mimicked Kageyama’s movements and followed after him up the narrow stone stairway. The sight of Kageyama’s back was startlingly familiar. Looking at it didn’t hurt like he thought it would have—like it had in the past. All he could think was that he’d seen it many times before, that he’d recognize the symmetrical tufts of hair down Kageyama’s nape anywhere. When had that happened?  
  
Hinata was so caught up in his thoughts that Kageyama had to elbow him in the side when it was his turn to give his offering for the shrine. He blinked down at the fifty yen coin in his palm, then up at Kageyama, who was really frowning now. Hinata tossed his coin into the box and clapped his hands together while bowing his head. It was only when they were walking back to the entrance that Kageyama said anything to him.  
  
“Where the hell is your head today?”  
  
What? “What?” Then before Kageyama could even answer, he asked, “Do I seem different to you?”  
  
“Huh? What are you talking about?”  
  
“Um, I don’t know.” Hinata couldn’t explain. He felt different, but like he hadn’t realized it for the longest time.  
  
Kageyama sighed. “Whatever. Let’s just go back now.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Kageyama’s brow creased, but he didn’t say anything further. They walked back to Hinata’s apartment, encased in a silence a world away from the people around them.  
  


* * *

On the TV the ace of the Tachibana Red Falcons slammed the ball down from behind the back line of the court. The crowd went wild as they racked up another point in their long streak to the end of the set. Hinata was only paying half attention to the game, which Kageyama hadn’t taken his eyes off of for the entire half an hour that they’d been watching. The screen of his phone was dark, then it was bright with Natsu’s middle school graduation portrait. He’d texted Atsumu nearly an hour ago, but gotten no answer. He looked at the form of the Falcons server, whose arm snapped in perfect formation to hit the ball in the empty hole on the other side of the net. If Atsumu was going to sulk, he should have at least had the decency to let Hinata know where he was.

Right when Hinata had given up hope of hearing from Atsumu, his phone vibrated on the table. He snatched it up and saw a short message from Atsumu: ‘Going to eat dinner outside before I go back to my apartment. Good night.’ Hinata blinked at the screen.

‘do you have to? i haven’t eaten yet. you can come back and eat here, too.’

‘I’m good. Thanks.’

Hinata was in the middle of furiously typing a response when Kageyama paused the game. Without the commentators’ voices, a hush fell over the living room.

“Is everything okay?”

Hinata fidgeted with his phone. “Sort of.”

Kageyama didn’t press any further. Hinata finished his message, asking Atsumu to call him. The Falcons game never resumed. Kageyama stood up and left the room; Hinata heard his footsteps retreating towards the toilet. He used the time to stare at his screen and will an answer from Atsumu into existence.

‘you’re being kind of difficult right now and i can’t tell why.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘atsumu-san.’

Hinata’s phone vibrated again when the TV’s static went dead. Next to him at the table stood Kageyama, dressed in his street clothes again. His puffer coat was a deep midnight blue and inside he wore a black hoodless sweatshirt. He was pocketing his phone and wallet and checking his watch.

“I’ll be back after dinner,” he said.

Hinata got a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Where are you going?”

Kageyama blew out air from between his teeth. For all that he was gruff, he didn’t often lose his temper. It’s how Hinata knew that he was really annoyed now. “Out. For dinner. I’m meeting…people.”

“Who?” Did Kageyama even keep in contact with anyone in Tokyo?

Apparently that was the wrong thing to ask, because Kageyama’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know, I don’t usually think about things like this, but so far, this visit really blows.”

Hinata’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“I thought earlier it was just Atsumu-san being kind of weird, but then you’ve been distracted all day. Clearly you’re having problems, so you should fucking fix them or something before you invite someone from overseas to come stay with you.”

Hinata could count the number of times that Kageyama had spoken more than ten words at once on his two hands. Somehow, the fact that he was summoning this ability now to tell him this just made his own temper flare.

“So you’re just going to walk out of here instead of telling me you have a problem with me? How is that going to change anything?”

“Yeah, because you’re really great at listening to people when they have problems.”

Suddenly, everything dropped on Hinata at once: Kageyama and the mountains, another winter in another life. Just like the fights before, he couldn’t find the right words inside him. He grit his teeth and held in a cry of frustration. Words just weren’t how they communicated—not when flying and jumping with hunk of leather in hand was the first language they’d ever spoken with each other. He could only stare, and when Kageyama saw that no answer was coming forth, he scoffed loudly and zipped up his coat. “Seriously? You’re such a piece of work.”

Before Hinata could even stop him, Kageyama was jamming his feet into his shoes and out the door. Forget that he probably didn’t remember the passcode. Forget that this was Hinata’s apartment. Forget that he could be locked out without his passport and the stupid, ugly photo inside it. Hinata sat at the table, immobile for once as he listened to the sound of Kageyama’s angry stomps down the hall. On the screen of his phone, a new message alert floated to the top: ‘Fine. I’ll see you soon.’

* * *

In the time between Kageyama leaving and Atsumu arriving, Hinata paced the entirety of his apartment nearly one hundred times. There wasn’t much square meterage to begin with, and not to mention the fact that he’d been working himself into a frothing anger the entire time. A piece of work? Him? Like Kageyama had ever been any better. He was so mean and rude, and had as much tact as a squawking chicken. When Atsumu came in through the front door, Hinata was in the middle of his ninety-third revolution around the apartment. He had the nerve to look surprised to find Hinata waiting for him. Boors. All of them. Hinata strode up to where he stood in the entryway.

“You took your time.”

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at him, the muscles in his jaw sliding in a telltale sign that he was getting irritated. Still, his voice was restrained when he said, “I was coming from Samu’s, so yeah, took me a while. Sue me.” He looked around the apartment. “Where’s Tobio-kun?”

“He…went out.”

“Huh, okay.”

Hinata tapped his foot impatiently. Who was he kidding? He didn’t just think that they’d been fighting all day; they _were_ fighting all day, and he was itching to finish it now. “Why did you leave this morning?”

“I already told you. Samu needed help with somethin’.”

“Bullshit. What was it?”

“Oh, so you wanna play robocop now? I don’t need to tell you shit,” Atsumu snapped. As always, his tongue was sharp and ready to give worse than he got. Hinata realized that they were getting loud already. What if their neighbors could hear them? So what? a small part of him asked. It wouldn’t have been the first time that they heard him and Atsumu. If they could live with the sound of Atsumu’s screams when Hinata was fucking him, then they could live with this, too.

“Well?”

“If you called me here to ambush me in the fuckin’ doorway when you have a guest over, you really need to get your head checked out.”

At that, Hinata’s head spun like he’d been struck. Kageyama had mentioned Atsumu’s less than welcoming greeting from earlier that morning, how Hinata should have been settling his problems before inviting him over. He hadn’t known that there were problems; Atsumu had said. He’d said.

“I know that you ran off to sulk! Even though you said—I asked you, and you said it was okay!”

“The fuck? That shit again? You really think I’m like a little kid, don’t you?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you suddenly leave like that? And after being rude to Kageyama, too!”

Atsumu’s expression grew dark, and he drew himself up at his full height. It wasn’t fair. “Oh, yeah, all of this is about Tobio-kun in the end, huh? Then you should say thanks to me for gettin’ out of your way!”

Hinata faltered. Suddenly, he didn’t feel in control of this conversation anymore, like he’d hit upon a completely unknown pothole in the road that he hadn’t even known to look for. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever. Figure it out for yourself.” Atsumu clicked his tongue. “I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here. Bye.”

“Wait. Where are you going?” Why was everyone so insistent on leaving? He reached for Atsumu’s sleeve, but Atsumu yanked his arm away.

“Dunno, somewhere. What do you care? Clearly I’m just botherin’ you right now. Maybe I’ll go evaporate outside.”

He was so dramatic. It didn’t matter whether Hinata was genuinely confused or not; nothing could change his course now that he was convinced that he was in the right. Hinata roared. “Okay, just go die then!”

Atsumu laughed, cruel and without a trace of his usual mirth. “Okay, I will, Shouyou-kun. Just for you!”

Then he slammed the door shut behind him, and the sound of it echoed through the small apartment unit and in Hinata’s ears and head. The wind blowing through the building corridors and against the outer walls commingled with the echoes, until he couldn’t tell where one noise stopped and the other began. It was late winter. Hinata was twenty-three years old. This was his apartment in Kichijouji, from where Atsumu and Kageyama both had stormed out within thirty minutes of one another. He wore number 21 on the MSBY Black Jackals with an entire team of players, including Atsumu himself, but right now, he was utterly alone.  



	3. night sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu likes BoA, Kageyama likes volleyball, Hinata would like some peace.

  
Hinata’s ideal version of this visit involved playing some volleyball with Kageyama, getting him to share his poorly-taken pictures of his time in Italy, eating some nice meals at home with his favorite people in the world. Buying beer, arguing about the Christmas cake design that Hinata had picked out, peeling persimmons under the kotatsu. Nowhere in that ideal was the image of him lying face down on the floor of his apartment, swallowing down tears of anger and despair as he made a list of all the things he regretted from the past twenty-four hours.  
  
On top of everything, he’d said something so terrible to Atsumu. At minimum, their fights lasted two days, but he’d really made Atsumu mad this time. Now he wouldn’t get to show him the Christmas cake or his present. His eyes watered again.  
  
Hinata didn’t even know how much time had passed with him on the floor like that, his nose jammed against the hardwood surface. He just heard someone punch in the front door code. Was it Atsumu? It couldn’t be. A robber, then. Oh good, someone could end his misery. He didn’t even lift his head when the alarm was disarmed and the door opened. A pair of footsteps in the entryway, shoes being tucked into the metal shoe rack. This robber was very polite.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
Kageyama. Hinata looked up and saw him crouching in front of him, totally bewildered. The rims of his eyes were pink from the cold, but otherwise, he seemed fine.  
  
“How did you get in?”  
  
“I wrote down your passcode.” Kageyama’s nose was scrunched in confusion. “But why are you on the floor? Are you okay?”  
  
Even though he’d left in anger, Kageyama was still asking after him like this. Hinata couldn’t help the tear that trickled down his cheek. One set off two, and then a cascade of tears came forth. Kageyama misted over in his vision, and he dropped his head again. Hinata couldn’t even see Kageyama’s face when he barked out, “Hinata, what the fuck? You’re scaring me.”  
  
“I messed everything up, Kageyama” Hinata wailed into the floor. “I messed it up like I did with you! I’m cursed!” He sobbed, inconsolable even though Kageyama tried his best to be comforting. Though maybe the fact that Kageyama’s best involved awkwardly patting his shoulder had some small part in it. He could appreciate the effort regardless.  
  
When he finally calmed down enough to talk instead of just hiccuping, Hinata sat up on his knees. Kageyama hadn’t moved an inch from his spot in front of him. He was looking at Hinata like he was something pitiable, and that made his throat close up faster than anything.  
  
“What are you talking about, dumb—” He sighed. “What are you talking about?”  
  
Hinata bit his lip. “I know I was the one who ruined things. With us.” They had never talked about the time they fought in Miyagi—not in the gymnasium in their first year and not on the road next to Kageyama’s childhood home. “I even had a dream about it last night.”  
  
Kageyama’s head tilted. “What kind of dream?”  
  
“About when we fought. Back then, when I left you behind your family’s house.” His dreams never included that part, but he had. He had left Kageyama alone in the cold and run away, retreated because he’d hated that Kageyama knew how to cut right through the quick of him. The long-list for the Olympic National Team, a one-way ticket to Brazil, the impenetrable sense of forlornness in his chest, nestled against the pride that Hinata had felt upon seeing Kageyama’s career take off.  
  
“Oh. That.” Kageyama looked sideways. Right now he seemed apprehensive. “Now’s kind of a weird time to bring it up, though.”  
  
Hinata shook his head. It wasn’t. The entire day, from the moment he’d woken from the dream to picking out Kageyama from a crowd of travelers at Haneda, he’d known that things had changed without him even realizing. “I know this is late, and I know that you already know. I wanted to say it to you, though: you were right. I wasn’t fair to you.”  
  
Kageyama let out a deep breath and shifted into a sit. _You want to do this now?_ his pose seemed to ask. Still, he didn’t interrupt Hinata when he pressed on.  
  
“Chasing after you had become so normal to me. I was so hungry that I didn’t know what to do with it.” Hinata looked down at where his hand rested next to Kageyama’s—his still sun-browned next to Kageyama’s carefully filed nails. He smiled. “I just thought you were the best, and you know, I still do. But I don’t think I need to chase after you anymore. Actually, I don’t think I’ve been doing it for a long time.”  
  
Kageyama didn’t answer at first. He was slow to gather his words, and would only say what he meant. After a long moment, Kageyama said, “I didn’t know you were thinking all of that, but thanks.”  
  
“I didn’t know either,” he confessed.  
  
Kageyama’s lips twitched, like he thought Hinata was annoying. That had never been a secret to him, or to anyone else. “When we were younger…I never knew what to do. I could tell you were sad inside—that you’d been sad for a long time. You seem a lot happier these days.”  
  
Kageyama’s eyes closed; his brow was smooth and unfurrowed. Hinata relaxed along with him and looked at him properly. His lashes grew straight down, with errant strands poking into his monolids; Hinata remembered all the times that he’d helped him trim the lashes with trembling fingers pressed against his cheeks. Time had changed many things, but the firm line of his lips remained. The love he had for Kageyama remained, but time had changed the shape of that as well. All the things he knew about Kageyama would always be dear to him, and maybe now, he would finally know how to show him that instead of constantly being on the run.  
  
“I am happier.”  
  
“That’s good,” he said. “Then you shouldn’t mess things up anymore. Dumbass.”  
  
Hinata laughed. Instead of returning a barb for every barb visited upon him, he just nodded. “Okay. I won’t.”  
  


* * *

After their conversation, Kageyama had thrown a box of tissues at Hinata’s head. There was no way that he hadn’t aimed for the corner to jab him in the forehead. Hinata had wiped his face clean and rubbed at the sore spot on his forehead, sticking his tongue out at Kageyama who resumed watching the Tachibana Red Falcons game like he’d never left it at all. His expression was impassive, but Hinata saw the easy slope of his shoulders and knew that they were okay. He smiled at Kageyama and took his coat out of the hallway closet.

“I’m going out,” he said.

“Okay. It’s cold.”

“Well, it’s winter.”

Kageyama looked up and blinked. “Does that change that it’s fucking cold?”

“You’re so rude.”

Hinata took an extra pair of gloves anyway and wrapped his muffler tight around his throat. It didn’t prevent the cold from seeping in his bones as soon as he went down to the foyer, phone in one hand and gloves in the other. He knew that Atsumu had left more than an hour ago, but if he got to Kichijouji Station, he could make it to his apartment before the last car. Hinata dialed Atsumu’s number and ran outside.

“Come on, come on, pick up,” he murmured as the dial tone went on.

He was passing by the small semi-circle of benches and barren ginkgo trees in front of the building when he heard Atsumu’s ringtone, BoA’s ‘Hurricane Venus’, blast through the silence outdoors. Hinata halted immediately in his tracks and whipped his head around. It was hard to see Atsumu in the dim winter evening, but Hinata could make out the curve of his ears and the broad set of his shoulders.

“Atsumu-san?”

“Uh, no. Who’s that?” Atsumu said.

“Atsumu-san, I can hear your voice.” Hinata walked closer to the benches, hanging up the call. BoA’s dulcet tones died off at the same time. Sure enough, Atsumu was sitting on one of the benches, the tip of his nose flushed red.

“Hey, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu greeted glumly, waving his free hand.

“Oh my god. Why are you sitting out here?” Hinata raced over to where Atsumu sat, pulling off his muffler and wrapping it around Atsumu’s neck. “Are you stupid?”

“I was goin’ home. I mean, I was on the way home, but my feet brought me back.” Atsumu looked like he was trying not to pout. He was failing. “I didn’t stay out here the whole time. I’m okay.”

Hinata was too busy fussing over him, trying to shove his one-size-too-small gloves over Atsumu’s hands. The fleece had too little give to properly cover Atsumu’s fingers, but Hinata valiantly attempted it anyway. Atsumu stopped him with a hand over his. His palm was warm from where he’d been holding the cup. There was none of the earlier nastiness in his expression, only an uncharacteristic calm as he breathed in and out. True to his word, Atsumu seemed no worse for the wear. Hinata breathed a sigh of relief and leaned his head against Atsumu’s shoulder. Atsumu immediately stiffened.

“Shouyou-kun, we’re outside,” he hissed.

“No one can see.” All the anger was seeping out of him, like a paintbrush dipped in water for too long. Every passing moment the color bled and faded into something different and muted. Hinata clutched at Atsumu’s jacket sleeve in a conciliatory gesture. Atsumu didn’t push him away. “Are you not mad anymore?”

“I wasn’t mad.”

Hinata gave him a skeptical look. Atsumu averted his gaze and started fidgeting with the lid of his cup. His forearm flexed under Hinata’s hand.

“You seemed very mad.”

“I wasn’t mad,” he repeated, before he trailed off and began muttering under his breath. Hinata leaned in even closer and strained to hear what he was saying: “I didn’t know. Where I fit in here.”

“With what?”

Atsumu sighed, deep and tired. “With you, duh. I know I said it’s okay, but what else was I gonna do? He’s important to you, and nothing I say changes that,” he said, voice still quiet. “And maybe you’re still in love with Tobio-kun. Then where’s that leave me?”

Whether it was from the cold or his own discomfort, Atsumu looked miserable. The vulnerability in his face was plain to see. Hinata couldn’t stop staring at it in spite of himself, in spite of knowing that he should look away and preserve the pride that Atsumu guarded fiercely inside himself. Atsumu was strong, but he had more fearfulness than he let on. Hinata simply hadn’t realized that the list of fears he harbored also included him. Carefully, gently, Hinata lifted his hand to Atsumu’s face and brushed his thumb over his chilled cheek. Atsumu flinched.

“What’re you thinkin’? If you’re pitying me, I’m really gonna go.” He was just like a dog with its hackles up.

“That you’re a lot more fragile than you realize,” he answered, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to calm Atsumu down. “I’m sorry, Atsumu-san. For what I said earlier, too. I didn’t know you were worried.”

“Whatever. Whatever.”

Hinata had never talked much about what had happened with Kageyama. It seemed pointless to bring up something that had passed so long ago, but of course even someone with Atsumu’s unshakeable confidence could be made uncertain.

“Kageyama and I were together for a really short time, when we were nearly finished with school. But it was like we’d already been together for so long that it didn’t feel like much had changed.” He remembered the innocent gestures—pork buns and gungun yogurt, furtive kisses behind locked doors—and felt a stab of regret. “But I kind of messed it up.”

“How?”

“The same way I always do: I ran. I didn’t want to be left behind, so I ran ahead.” Hinata smiled wryly. “It hurt a lot, too.”

Atsumu’s brow furrowed. “Then how come you’re out here with me, and what’re you saying?”

Hinata’s heart was suddenly full of nothing but fondness and love for Atsumu, who had sincerely thought he was doing the right thing, even if it was misguided. He put both hands on his face and held his gaze steady. “I’m the one who ran, you know. I wasn’t ever going back to where I came from. Life goes on, and the things that hurt me don’t anymore because I’ve found new things that I want to cherish.”

“Oh.” Atsumu’s eyes lit up with understanding.

Hinata didn’t wait to kiss him. He leaned up and boldly pressed his lips to Atsumu’s, uncaring that any of his neighbors could see them there. It wasn’t as important as holding onto Atsumu’s jacket lapels or feeling Atsumu’s hand tenderly cradle the back of his head as he kissed him back. Hinata let Atsumu slip his tongue into his mouth and felt his entire face heat up. When they parted, the cold air must have hit the slickness on his lips, but he couldn’t feel it. He was wholly focused on the flush on Atsumu’s cheeks and the brightness in his expression.

“You’re stupid,” Hinata murmured. “The one I’m in love with is you.”

“Mm, yeah, if you say I’m stupid then must be true.”

Hinata swatted his chest, but didn’t stop Atsumu from pulling him into his arms. There was only the quiet sounds of their breaths and the distant flickers of the city’s lights around them. It was December, and Hinata was twenty-three. He knew how to do many things now: stay in place, face his fears, listen carefully when Atsumu held him tight and spoke into the night, “I love you, too.”

* * *

The rest of the week blew past Hinata, but his dreams did come true. He got to eat with Kageyama and Atsumu both, and was pleasantly surprised when they actually tried to get along with one another. Most of the conversations involved Atsumu supplying commentary and Kageyama grunting or humming, which seemed to suit them just fine. They converged only to make fun of the Christmas cake design that Hinata had picked out (Santa had been replaced by Vabo-chan donning a red hat), and spent the rest of the evening thereafter taking turns apologizing.

The night before Kageyama’s departure to Miyagi, he’d lain in his futon in the dark of Hinata’s room and talked about everything and nothing. Whether it would snow for the new year, how Kageyama’s Italian sucked, why the plane tickets to Japan were so expensive. He laughed when Kageyama confessed that he never wanted to eat another plate of pasta again.

“But we went to eat ramen. What’s the difference between noodles and pasta? They both have eggs.”

“It’s the cheese and butter. It’s everywhere. I just want some rice that isn’t fucking soaked in butter.”

“That’s so country, Kageyama-kun.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll send you katsuobushi in Italy.”

“…fine.”

They went back and forth like that until the hours passed, and like all things, the conversation came to an end. As he fell asleep, the thought occurred to him that neither he nor Kageyama would have never allowed themselves to close this distance between them back in high school. Maybe after all this time, they’d finally learned how to treat each other more gently. He was glad that they had learned at all.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been one of my big brain children since embarking on the journey to the center of this universe. The title is taken from "Never Look Away" by Vienna Teng. Thank you for reading this through the end.


End file.
